


The Intimacy of Archery

by AMac0218



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMac0218/pseuds/AMac0218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a crappy one shot. Oliver catches Felicity trying to practice with the bow. He helps her out but can't ignore the surge between them as he steps up close behind her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Intimacy of Archery

**Author's Note:**

> My first M piece, the rating is a precaution. Sorry if it sucks, but I just wanted to write something. Still trying to get the characters down.

Oliver sighed heavily as he came down the steps of the foundry. He’d spent a majority of his long and tiring day trying to get his company back, though thankfully, at the end of it he had. He furrowed his brows when he came to the bottom of the step and he heard a small curse word from a voice he would know even if it was pitch black. A small smile curled the corners of his lips as he headed to the area where he practiced his archery. The hall was long, and at the end of it was a board that held up targets to shoot at. He leaned against one of the glass display cases, filled with different arrow points, his arms going over his chest as he watched her.

Felicity Smoak had his practice bow out and she seemed to be examining it, her eyes moving over the wood and twine meticulously. Her lips were pursed to the side, her fingers gliding over the polished Osage wood. It was a simple thing, a recurve with no more than a forty pound draw back, something he could do with two fingers, and a Cartel fast flight string that sat strung around the curved ends. The bow was used for nothing but practice. However, as simple as it was, Felicity was staring at it like she was trying to decode it.

He watched her, the small smile turning into a bigger amused one as she lifted the bow and tried to pull it back, “You’re going to hurt yourself pulling the string like that,” he said to her.

The tech genius jumped with a start, the bow clattering to the ground as she turned and glared at him, “Yeah well…,”she trailed off, trying to think of something to say. “You shouldn’t be skulking around in the dark scaring people while they hold weapons.”

“That thing in your hand is as much a weapon as a pencil,” he smiled as he pushed off the glass with a shrug of his shoulder, going over and picking up the bow, checking it over for dents.

“I could stab you with a pencil,” she said back to him, and he noticed that she seemed to be trying to get the blush to leave her cheeks.

He laughed quietly though his nose as he handed the bow back to her. “Let me show you how to do this before you do some damage,” he said as he walked around to her back. He stood right up against her, his lips level with her ear. “When you do this,” Felicity shivered a little, but tried to focus on what he was saying and doing. “First your feet,” he said quietly as he used his own foot to move hers shoulder width apart, making sure the left one was in line with whatever she was shooting for. “Good,” he nodded. His hand slid down to her hips, her breath hitching in her throat, “Square yourself off…,” he mumbled.

“Any time I pictured you saying something that ended with ‘yourself off’ it wasn’t about squaring anything,” she said, her verbal filter disappearing as it often did whenever she was nervous, and with Oliver pressed right up against her she was definitely nervous. Had his voice dropped lower or had that been his imagination?

He cleared his throat and then moved his hands up to her arms, not saying anything about her verbal slip up. “Now your arms,” he said as he maneuvered her a little, “You want to keep your bow arm,” he touched her left arm, “parallel to the floor and straight,” he said into her ear. “And you want to…tilt your chin toward your shooting hand,” he nodded when she did what he said. “Good..”

He couldn’t deny that he had felt something for her, his words of love all those months ago to her hadn’t been feigned. They were true and real, and he had been trying to make himself a better person for her, and right now with her pressed against him, doing something that was so intimate to him had every inch of him stirring with some kind of need. He’d lost parts of himself when he killed people with this stance, with this weapon. He’d saved people with it as well, put himself back together piece by piece, amending what he’d done wrong. He’d become a hero, and she had been as much a part of that as the weapon in her hands.

“You got it,” he said as she turned her head and looked at him. His eyes went to her mouth, so very close to his own. He held his breath as he parted his lips, but instead of leaning down and closing the distance he backed away and turned his body, grabbing an arrow. “Let’s…try and shoot the closest target,” he said to her as he handed her the arrow. “Balance it on the nook in the wood and on your hand, three fingers on the string, cheek pressed against the heel of your palm next to your thumb. See the target and let the arrow go.”

Felicity had felt a singe of electricity go through her when she had turned and seen his mouth so close to hers. When he backed away however she was able to breathe. She nodded when she was handed the arrow and did as she was instructed. She pulled the string back and let it go without aiming, the string a little too much to pull back.

The arrow whizzed through the air and hit the paper target, embedding itself right into the crotch of the black silhouette. Felicity winced a little, her eyes narrowed as she pulled back her lips and hissed. “Bad news for that guy..” she said as she put the bow down. “I don’t think I like this…I think I’ll stick to modern technology and not ancient Byzantine.”

Oliver laughed as he went over to the target and pulled out the arrow, “It’s not Byzantine.” He said as he went back over to her. “It predates that by…at least a thousand years.” He told her, not sure how many years it predated it.

She rolled her eyes, “I know, I was just trying to make a joke.”

The archer shook his head as he picked up the bow again, handing it to her, “Try again, just one more time,” he said as she took it and sighed heavily. “This time I’ll help,” he nodded. He plucked another practice arrow out of the quiver on the table and stood behind her again. “Square your hips,” he said, pulling in a breath as she settled her hips right in the middle of his. He nodded and swallowed thickly as he lifted her arms with his own, knocking the arrow, “Good,” he said again. He helped her pull the arrow back, helping her hold it so she was barely using any force to maintain where it was. He turned his head again, once more struck with how close they were, and in an instant he couldn’t help himself.

He leaned forward and caught her lips, the arrow being let go in the process, the string missing her cheek by a fraction of an inch. He didn’t hear where the arrow went, all he heard was her intake of breath and the bow clattering to the ground.

Felicity felt her breath leave her lungs the moment his mouth closed over hers. She made a quiet surprised squeak as her fingers lost all control, the bow hitting the ground, the arrow going off in an unknown direction. Fire surged in the pit of her stomach, and when he pulled back and looked at her face, her eyes were still closed, her mouth hanging open a little before her lids fluttered open.

“Oh wow…” she managed to say, her eyes finding his face. She licked her lips before she shook her head. “What was that?” she asked, honestly confused. “Because a couple months ago you were…all for telling me what you did and then taking it back-,”

“I never took it back,” he reminded her.

“You never said-,” the rest of her sentence was cut off by his mouth, the only sound a sharp intake of breath through her nose as her arms went around his neck, his going around her waist.

He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss, the tip of his tongue tracing her lower lip as she parted them, groaning when he swept the inside of her mouth, pulling back, his teeth taking her lower lip with him a little before he let it go.

Felicity made a ‘hm’ noise before she rocked forward on her toes a little, “Oh wow..,” she said again, causing him to chuckle, but not say anything. She looked at him, her hand coming up to cup the side of his face, her thumb brushing some of her lip gloss off of his lip. “So I…can we…I’m gonna try this again,” she nodded as she stood up on her tip toes to kiss him again, just a quick peck this time, her mouth moving for a moment to the corner of his lips, brushing her nose against his beard before she pulled back. “Yeah that…that was nice,” she nodded, making an ‘mhm’ sound this time as she pulled her lower lip into her mouth.

“Yeah,” he said in half a breath before he kissed her again, his arms going tight around her waist, pulling her tight against him as he started to walk toward the nearest flat surface. He lifted her up and settled her against an open table, stepping between her legs as they went around his hips.

His mouth skated down her jawline as her fingers found purchase in his short hair, tugging and making it stand up in some places. His lips found her pulse, which was thundering against smooth skin. He pressed a small kiss to that spot before he sucked it gently, growling quietly against her, his mouth following the cord of muscle.

Felicity’s fingers ran over his hair and then down over his shoulders and down his back, gripping the material as his hands moved to her back, finding the small zipper between her shoulders. His fingertips took the small piece of metal between his thumb and index finger, pulling it down. He pushed the shoulders of her shirt down her arms, turning his head and kissing along the roundness of her shoulder and then down her bicep as best as he could with her still gripping him.

“You’re gonna have to let me go if you want me to keep doing what I want to do, Felicity..,” he said to her.

She didn’t want to let him go. What if this was a dream and she was going to wake up the moment she let’s go of his shoulder blades. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said to her as he pulled back a little and cupped the side of her face.

Pulled back and let him peel the skirt and her shirt off of her. His eyes followed every line and angle of her body, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted her. He’d spent all his time telling him to not want her, to push down what he felt because he couldn’t keep her safe, or because he wasn’t worthy. He’d spent months mulling those three words over in his head. They had been true to their very core, though he had been more than willing to let her thing he meant otherwise because he hadn’t been ready to be with her like this and now he was. He was more than ready.

He helped her pull his shirt over his head and stood still as her fingertips moved over every inch of him. She traced scars from the island, following the Bratva tattoo on his left pectoral. Her fingertips slid down his abs, tracing each one, following the trail of blonde below his belly button.

They discarded what remained of their own clothing, Oliver had watched her with baited breath, his eyes widening a little more with each unhidden inch of skin. He tilted her head up and kissed her gently, sighing against her mouth as she leaned back on the table, the archer following.

He settled between her legs, watching as he slid a calloused finger between them, dipping into her, his mouth following hers as she tilted her head back, her mouth parting a little as she made a keening noise. He pulled his hand away and laced their fingers, putting them over his head as he pushed home, groaning into the crook of her neck, shivering as he stilled inside of her, soaking up everything he could get from her.

They ended up on the cot that was in the back of the lair, a small blanket covering their lower halves, Felicity turned on her side, pressed up against him. “Wow,” she said again, a smile on her face.

“You’ve said that three times now.”

“Six times, but who’s counting,” she mumbled back to him, her fingers tracing one of the scars she’d patched up herself. “So what brought that on? Not that I’m not happy about it or…satisfied because I am...I really, really am, but it sort of came out of nowhere and-,”

He leaned down and kissed her gently to stop her babbling. “It wasn’t brought on by nothing,” he shook his head as he lifted his hand and held the side of her face, pushing a wild blonde lock behind her ear. “It was brought on by a lot…a lot I had to get my head around…a lot that I’ve been…denying,” he said as he shifted a little. “I’ve been thinking a lot since Slade and I’m not going to say I’ve completely figured myself out but…,” he trailed off, letting it go for now.

Felicity nodded and made a content sound as she set her head on his chest, closing her eyes. “Well whatever part of you finding yourself included this…I am very, very grateful,” she said as she stretched and then let herself relax against him.

There was a beat of silence before he sighed, looking up at the ceiling. His eyes caught movement in the other half of the room causing him to tilt his head up to look. He sighed again as he let his head hit the cot, “Dammit, Roy, get out!”

He felt Felicity get warm, knowing she was blushing and trying to hide and make herself as small as she could.

“You’re the one doing it in a public area!” he called. “And I just got down here so I didn’t see anything and I still haven’t seen anything.”

“This isn’t public! And good! Keep not seeing anything or I’ll make sure you never see anything again,” he said to him.

“Blind archer sounds like a cool name anyway,” he shrugged as he headed up the steps three at a time as he ran out.

He sighed as he clenched his teeth and looked up at the ceiling again.

“Maybe next time we can try this at your house?” Felicity asked.

Oliver let out a 'hm', sighing, his jaw set. She leaned up and kissed the bunch of muscle before she pecked the corner of his lips. 


End file.
